


Each day was a gift

by TheInvisibleChild



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Play, Angst, Blood and Gore, Drama, Fluff, M/M, Melancholy, Rimming, Smut, Tragedy, angry fucking, blowjob, rough rex, the boys are versatile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:39:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6904417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInvisibleChild/pseuds/TheInvisibleChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another Darus story but this will be slightly different from my other two stories. I don't want to give away any spoilers. Basically it's Jesus and Daryl going on a run together but then shit goes down (as it does).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Despite the nickname Jesus, he had never actually found himself praying before. Although at this point he found himself not caring which god answered him first, as long as his prayers were heard. Jesus was not in particular a religious person and the fall of humanity had shaken whatever faith he had had. But this very moment, this dire situation was in need of some divine intervention. Or un-divine for that matter. What ever higher powers there were, Jesus needed them.

It was as if a distant memory. His bloodied knees throbbed against the hard concrete he had been kneeled on what seemed like hours. The once semi-clean cloth now soaked in crimson blood, his hands bathed in it. There was one thing Jesus refused, and that was to cry or give up hope. Not as long as there still was some breath in him. His face was set in hard determination. It would be okay. No one was to die, not today.

The rest of the world was forgotten, nothing existed outside this. Pain was not unfamiliar in anyone's world anymore. Jesus himself growing up had been beaten numeral times by bullies in school, the very reason he had learned martial arts. Pain from lost, what he had thought at the time, love that broke him in a new way. Pain from losing people, especially since the old world died, and worse when you had to put down those people. Friends turned walkers turned dead for good, that was the worst kind of pain he had yet endured.

That was all before this day, and what a day it was. High noon sun shining brightly from a cloudless sky. Birds chirping in the rustling trees from the light wind that only cooled down the warm day. Now peaceful air hung around. It was a perfect summer's day. There were no walkers roaming in the close by area. No, the walkers were all dead around. Dark blood, brain matter smattering the road and grass. An almost magical moment, no threat existed since that was already taken care of, and if you block out the pain and warm blood underneath his hands, still flowing, and the rest of the world still going on about it's day.

No, this new world did not work that way. You never had perfect days anymore. You had moments, fleeting moments only. You learned a new appreciation for small things. Held precious whatever time you spent with your friends or family, or lovers. Each day was a gift and you'd make most of it. You learned to mourn lost friends, family and lovers. Dig graves if you were lucky enough to, maybe even say a few words and move on. There was no time to wallow in sorrow. It was a quick goodbye.

Walker bites were a promise of the impending death closing in. Battle wounds, gunshot wounds, stabs and slashes were healed. That was what they had all learned. You could bounce back from anything but a walker bite. Amputated feet, lost eyes, nothing seemed impossible. Having an actual doctor in Hilltop whom had also performed miracles, saved Maggie from a miscarriage and Daryl from that gunshot wound from Dwight.

Yet here he was perched on his knees on the side of the road, putting pressure on another gunshot wound. Only this time help was not coming. There was no one suspecting the worst, that help was even needed. Besides no one knew the exact location where he was. It was, after all, supposed to be a week-long run and it was only day three. Two wonderful days spent on the road, solely to end up here. In this giant clusterfuck of a mess.

A gentle, a bit rough hand covered his, awakening him to the here and now. Shock fading away, adrenaline taking over and fueling his actions. Actions, that was what was needed. He needed to act. To stop kneeling like an idiot and take actual action.

"We need to get you up and into the car and drive like maniacs to get you medical help."

Sky blue eyes were looking at him, his beautiful face twisted in pain but with a lingering determination still there. The sun shone just perfectly to glint off of those few grey hairs on his whiskers, merely highlighting the beauty of this man. Daryl squeezed his hands before placing his own to keep pressure on the wound. Jesus moved his hands to take hold of the man he loved and together they slowly stood up. Daryl swayed a little on his feet so Jesus kept one arm tightly around his waist, forcing Daryl to wrap an arm around his shoulders. Jesus placed his free hand on top of the one Daryl was still pressing to his abdomen. Still holding that blue gaze, Jesus studied his hunter's face, subconsciously memorizing it.

"You ready to walk?"

A barely there nod was all Daryl gave. Jesus did not expect more, it was all the confirmation he needed. The first step sent shooting pain to Daryl's abdomen which caused him to squeeze Jesus' shoulder tighter with a grunt. Jesus gave him an apologetic look before half dragging Daryl to their car. It was only ten feet but it took too long for Jesus' liking. Fast was what they needed. He opened the passenger door and carefully helped Daryl inside before closing the door and running to the other side. He slammed the door open and shut within the same second, started the car and backed away from the blocked road. Headed for their emergency rendezvous hide away spot, Jesus pushed the pedal as hard as he could. Keeping one eye on the road and one eye on the bleeding hunter next to him.


	2. Quiet nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two days before the run.

A handful of crumpled pieces of paper scattered to the floor from Daryl's black jeans that Jesus was slipping off. An amused laugh left his lips but at least Daryl was finally sans pants. Not that anything, or anyone, would go down tonight. Getting ready for a week long run meant requests from everyone and because his hunter was such a gentle soul, the notes kept on piling up. For the last two days as the day of their run grew closer the wish lists kept on coming, the bedside table was littered with them as each night Daryl would empty out his pockets.

  
"You're like a hoarder with all these notes and random knick knacks you collect. It's adorable."

  
"Mmhm. Thanks for taking of my boots and pants."

  
Daryl was sprawled on the bed only in his black boxers, a sight for sore eyes, exhausted and Jesus was about to pass out himself. Daryl had spent the day working hard on the farming, sweating in the scorching sun and listened to every resident's requests. Jesus had helped with the walker populations downgrading. Both of them working all way on their feet to do whatever was needed before both left.

  
"You know I love taking off your clothes no matter what."

  
And it was true, if there was one thing Jesus could do over and over, it was undressing his hunter. Slowly stripping his hunter, baring him to Jesus' eyes and only his eyes. Exhausted or not, Jesus would help his hunter to get out of his clothes. Even if it was just to sleep next to each other, skin touching skin. Being all cuddled up with the love of his life was the best part of each day. Intimacy was more than just sex, not that Jesus wasn't looking forward to spending some quality one on one time with Daryl, but it was sharing your soul with another.

  
Jesus finished taking of his own brown cargo pants, his navy blue shirt long gone, leaving himself in only grey boxer briefs. Turning off the overhead lights, making sure their pants were perfectly lined with their boots, just in case of an emergency and they needed to make a haste escape. Climbing in bed to Daryl's open arms, he rested his weary head and body heavily on top of part Daryl - part bed. It was Daryl's nature to be the protector, a provider, and that also transferred into sleeping arrangements. Although Jesus was not in the least bit upset about always being the little spoon. It was comforting to know that even when it was just the two of them, Daryl still had that protectiveness. His hunter's hand tangled into his hair, stroking it in a soothing manner causing Jesus' eyes to droop closed.

  
"Just one more day and I won't have to share you with anyone else."

  
Jesus slowly drawled in to the crook of Daryl's neck. He had missed this the entire long day. When he could forget the worries of the outside world for a few precious hours. Not think about the threat of Negan and the whole reason this run was crucial. Stop making constant lists in his head for places where they might find the things they needed. Chatter of the ASZ people whom were excited of the prospect to get a new toothpaste, certain candy or just new farming equipment.

  
"Mm, ya sound tired Paul."

  
"I'm not that tired, we can stay up a bit longer."

  
Daryl was a creature of habit. He liked certain foods, preferred routines over unexpected and once he was set in his way, it wasn't easy to break them. Especially when it benefited him and their relationship. This was one of them. One of the few. Every night when they were getting ready for sleep, they had a moment of just talking about their days or keep memorizing each other by gentle touches or sharing soft kisses until sleep came.

  
Daryl's hand slid from his hair to stroke his cheek, lifting his face to meet up those sky blue eyes. Sunset was painting the sky with purples and pinks cascading beautiful colours inside from the curtainless window in Daryl's room, highlighting the gorgeous man next to him. A thumb crossed his lips and Jesus couldn't help himself but press a kiss on it. His own hand had begun caressing Daryl's ribcage in circles, the other was trapped between their bodies. A genuine smile filled with happiness and love danced across Daryl's lips before descending on his forehead, his cheeks and finally on his awaiting lips. Smooth lips gliding along his, tongues tenderly massaging each other. Sparking a fire inside but Jesus knew they were both physically too drained for anything more than kissing. Kisses with filled emotion that could only be expressed non-verbally.

  
It might have been five minutes or five hours later when they broke apart, Jesus always lost himself in the sensations Daryl arose within him. The sun had set, giving way to moonlight and stars. A lingering touch from his cheek made its way back to his hair. Keeping him in place, right next to his hunter's heart. After all home is where your heart is.

  
"I love you Daryl."

  
"Mhm, love ya too Paul."

  
Some nights like this, those were the only words they needed to speak out loud. No matter what had happened during the day, whether they had had disputes, talked to each other all day or none at all, these words always ended the nights. These nightly routines were sometimes a hard pill to swallow especially when they were apart. Getting accustomed to routines when death was all around, but then again what was easy these days anymore. Nothing was for certain. In the end risking everything for love to have these fleeting moments made it worth all the heartache and trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this first real chapter is so short, next ones will be longer I promise. Hope you enjoy!


	3. Busy days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day before the run and we get to hear Daryl's thoughts.

Waking up with the crack of dawn was something Daryl had internalized from a young age. Growing up with his upbringing he found it better to be out of the house as soon as his eyes were no longer filled with sleep. Grabbing a quick bite of whatever was in the kitchen or scavenging his own food in the woods. Relying on free school lunches, due to technicality or plain old pity, until he dropped out of high school. Then it was following Merle around, making sure he kept out of trouble and they stayed somewhat well fed. Running from authorities, landlords or just people pissed off at Merle turned out to be good practice for the apocalypse.

After the world ended waking up before the sun was up was even a better thing. Having a few moments to himself whilst he hunted cleared out his head and he didn't have to deal with the group. It took a good while for Daryl to call the group his family, a while where he lost a lot of things. His brother, the farm, prison, friends and children, hope. For a long time things were bleary and nothing to look forward to, except the finality of death setting them free of the constant agony and pain. But then Alexandria Safe Zone happened to cross their path and that changed things again.

Daryl found it hard to adjust to the normality of having a house to call his own. He never had owned a house by himself, or with anyone as a matter of fact. Not having to hunt his own food but go to the pantry instead to simply pick up whatever was there. Sure scavenging runs were needed to keep everything pretty well stocked. Of course that didn't last long. A new threat was always around the corner, only now it was humans not walkers. First the Wolves then the Saviors. It was how he found himself in this current situation.

He still awoke, unless he had a watch shift at night, with the dawn. Yesterday had been rough on his body physically, planting tomatoes and what nots with the sun drenching him in sweat. It didn't matter though as Daryl had slept peacefully and this only happened after he had met Paul. Jesus to friends but they were more than friends. There was something about the man's calming presence that made his nightmares and worries slip away giving way to actual much needed sleep. No more restless nights tossing and turning most of the night. Just being near Paul made his thoughts more collected, serene.

Daryl liked waking up with the dawn now even if he had the option to sleep in. Dawn's early rays filled the room slowly but they were still bathed in the shadows. Daryl turned to his side to gaze upon the still soundly sleeping Paul. Breathing deeply, mouth a little open, hair tousled and all over the pillow. Daryl was tempted to run his hand through those luscious sandy blonde locks that he knew were soft as silk. He opted to let his weary scout sleep for a bit longer.

Sentimentality was something Daryl was not known for. Nor was he ever one, but that too was before he met Paul. True it had taken months for him to accept this new aspect of his personality. Yes, he had formerly kept a few mementos of passed away people whom he had held dear. The angel winged vest from Merle, Beth's knife, a wilted Cherokee rose among others. Daryl found his thoughts always somehow being a bit more sentimental when thinking about Paul. Especially now when he was looking down the man himself, laying next to him in the bed they shared.

Sunlight filtered through the window higher, no longer masking them in the shadows. Daryl's frame was still mostly keeping the sleeping man in the shade. He watched as Paul's eyes moved behind his closed lids, moving his head closer to Daryl's chest causing a smile to pass his lips.

"It's a bit creepy, the staring."

Paul's husky sleep filled voice broke through the silence, burrowing closer to his bare chest to avoid the light. Daryl was more than happy to gather him to his arms and stroke that tangled hair. His fingers brushing through it carefully until it was free of knots but kept on with his caressing. Daryl placed a tender kiss to Paul's forehead before saying a quiet 'morning' to the man's hair. It was quiet mornings like this that Daryl didn't mind waking up with the morning.

"We have to get up soon."

"I know, I know but I just love snuggling up with you."

A snort left his lips at that remark, but he did share the feeling with Paul. But there were things to be done, chores to be completed and making final annotations on their plans for the run. It was going to be another long and busy day. Daryl gave one last squeeze to the man in his arms before grudgingly rolling away and sitting up on the edge of the bed. Glancing over his shoulder, Daryl saw Paul still in the same spot causing him to smirk. Walking slowly to his pants, he slipped them on whilst watching Paul from the corner of his eye. Paul had rolled over to his other side, bright tropical eyes fully open, following his every move. Daryl shook his head in amusement as he slipped his sleeveless black button-up shirt on.

Dragging his boots with him to sit down on the bed, he bent down to slip one boot first the other following, lacing his pant legs as well with string. Daryl felt a warm kiss being pressed on his left shoulder. He turned his head to catch those lips in a tender kiss, allowing the morning quiet and peace to drag along for a moment longer.

"Ya need to get dressed too."

He spoke as he stood up again and slipped the final piece of clothing, his vest on. Paul gave him a lazy smile.

"I was just enjoying the show."

A faint blush spread on his cheeks upon Paul's admission. He still wasn't used to being adored like this, Daryl wasn't sure if he ever would. It always caused a warm fluttering in his chest but the initial awkwardness had faded away few weeks back. He didn't feel the need to fidget or brush the comment off, he invited the warmthness in. In all honesty, Daryl basked in these admissions, locking them in his heart.

As his hand was about to open the bedroom door, a fully clothed Paul, ninja skills apparently transferred to clothing super fast as well, broke the comfortable silence again.

"You'll have lunch with me today, right?"

"'m sorry 'bout that."

Yesterday he had been too caught up with the farming plot that he had forgotten their little lunch date. Although he now remembered that they had agreed with Rick and others to have lunch while going over the plans for the run today.

"We got lunch with Rick, remember?"

He tilted his head in a questioning manner. Paul smirked at him and closed the distance between them to place another small kiss to his lips.

"Just checking you hadn't forgotten. I'll see you at lunch then."

Daryl nodded and together they exited the safe haven of their bedroom to join others in the outside world.

* * *

Coming up with new innovative ways to hunt bigger game was not easy. Snares for rabbits and an occasional possum worked just fine. He had tried making his own bow for the arrows he had stashed in his drawer but finding the proper wood and string was hard. His friends had tried looking for a new crossbow for him on their scavenging runs but after two years of being in the apocalypse the weapons were gone. New guns or ammo were a rare find these days. It was the first thing people had scavenged, food being a close second.

Hilltop had an excellent blacksmith who had given Daryl a few spears but getting close enough to a deer without alerting it was difficult, even for him. Carrying more than one while trying to keep an eye on walkers, or having to kill said walkers, was another tough task. It mostly frustrated him and thus he relied on the snares that actually worked. Plus Daryl missed his crossbow, it had been a reminder of the old world, the good times.

Daryl's grandpa had taught him and Merle to hunt from a very young age. It was somewhat the male tradition of his family. Spending summers with his loving grandparents were the only good memories Daryl had of his childhood. Their grandpa had given him his first crossbow and ever since it had become a symbol to him. Of course this was decades ago but having a familiar weapon in his hands throughout his life gave him a sense of condolence. A security blanket of some sort, in a really weird and twisted way.

But his crossbow was gone as was his blood relatives, as far as he knew Merle had been the last one. Their ma died when Daryl was only a kid. Their grandpa had passed away soon after Daryl's fifteenth birthday to cancer and their grandma soon followed. She had told him when he was young that his grandparents were soul mates, and when the time would come it wouldn't be just losing one but both of them. Daryl never quite believed in soul mates or his grandma's words but when they both had passed away within weeks of each other, he found solace in that thought. He didn't like thinking about the past much but whenever he was hunting alone, it would make its way to the forefront of his mind.

Lunch hour came sooner when you were working your ass off trying to hunt and killing walkers at the same time. But as it was beginning to be a hot summer, the wildlife was scarce and walkers more lively. Daryl wanted to take a nice ice-cold shower to wash off sweat and walker grime, but he knew it would be pointless as he would just be filthy at the end of the day again.

Rick, Michonne, Glenn and Paul were already crouched over the patio table looking over a map and munching away what looked like the protein cakes that Denise used to make. Daryl tried not to think about that fact too much as he approached the others. Of course Paul was the first one to notice him, his bright tropical eyes sparkled in a way that lit up his entire smiling face. Because he had given up on trying fighting it, Daryl gave Paul a crooked smile of his own, nodding to the others in greeting. He made his way next to Paul who handed him his lunch and Daryl began chewing it while he listened Rick replaying what they had discussed already.

"Okay, since you're going to be closer to Hilltop on this run and if something happens, your emergency spot is within radiophone reach so you can let us know. Otherwise we'll see you at Hilltop in a week."

Rick informed with his no-nonsense voice when he meant business. Michonne continued with a much softer tone.

"We were also thinking since you're leaving tomorrow before sunrise, you could catch up on your sleep today and take the rest of the day off."

"Yeah, we know you two won't be doing much sleeping on that run together."

Glenn smirked at them, making Daryl blush tomato red. However he could not argue that it wasn't true. Both Paul and him were looking forward to some alone time that they hadn't had in weeks. Just thinking about it made him blush harder but he was thankful that his family was supportive of their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to mention that I am not a professional writer nor is my intention to write the next great novel. I'm just a fan writing for fans. If my errors make you "cringe", please do not continue reading. I'm bilingual and English is my 3rd language but I am trying my very best to not have any grammatical errors. To everyone else, thank you for the encouraging words! Hope you guys enjoy!  
> (The next chapter is the reason this is rated M at the moment, might have up it to E.)


	4. Treats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of the run and our couple come across a house.

"Be careful out there brother."

Rick was standing next to the truck he and Paul were in, waiting for the gate to be opened so they could be on their way. Daryl nodded, not a fan of saying byes even the temporary ones. He considered them to be bad luck and no way was he jinxing this. Rick walked over to the gate to set them free. The air was still filled with an early morning mist, fresh in his lungs as Daryl took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. Paul was the one driving simply because every time Daryl drove the truck Paul would sit and smirk at him. Besides it was nice to just enjoy the scenery for a while, and occasionally make sure they were right on track following the route drawn on the map.

Paul bid his byes as they drove past Rick and out of the gate. The truck was old and made a lot of noise hence the slow pace they begun their travel. About a mile away from the gate, Paul finally accelerated a little but since it was still early dawn and the sun was only peeking out, they didn't want to risk it. Chancing the road to be empty of walkers was something both were not keen on. Cruising on a comfortable speed, Paul let go of the shift and took his hand to hold.

The first twenty miles went by in the quiet, the only sounds were the birds waking up and chirping gleefully. The grumbling of Paul's stomach woke Daryl from his daydreams and he reached to the backpack to retrieve their granola bars. They shared a water bottle before the first break to stretch out their legs and empty out bladders.

The second twenty miles weren't so easy, more walkers as they went further and a few they had to stop for to take care of. Most of the cars had been pushed away ergo no need to diverge from the road. Their designated destination was a small town just outside of Richmond, big cities were not deemed safe to travel without a larger group. The plan was to find a safe house to stay at that was secluded and not too close to the actual town. And if they had spare time and energy, they would hit the nearing small towns as well.

"Thank god for hermits."

Paul cheered as they parked the truck in the gravel driveway of a lone wooden house that looked like was falling apart but it was perfect. It looked inhabited, no one would think twice to look anyone from here and the surrounding woods gave an added sense of safety. Daryl grunted in response, he had been a bit of a hermit himself before the turn. He knew what Paul meant with that statement and wasn't offended in the least. He was pretty thankful of that fact as well at the moment.

Weapons in hand they exited the truck silently, miraculously no walkers around them as they neared the house. Daryl knocked on the front door, waited a minute before twisting the doorknob and of course it was locked. It was a pretty solid wooden door that would provide to be a great secure. Walking around the house they met at the back door, Daryl repeated the knocking and waiting, it was locked as well. Paul motioned for him to move, retrieved something from his pocket and picked it open.

Inside was dusty, grey and the smell of staleness swirled around the air. They had about an hour of sunlight left which they took to their advantage, making a swift sweep of the one story house. Just as they had assumed, no walkers inside. Daryl begun carrying their bags inside whilst Paul turned the truck around for a quick escape. It took only two trips by himself and Daryl decided to wait for his scout by the door, looking out towards the woods. It was a little eerie that they were out in the middle of the woods with no walkers around, just the two of them. Maybe it was the absurdity of the normality. Like they were on a getaway weekend.

Paul walked passed him into the house with that scavenging look he would get, Daryl shook his head and locked the door. He strolled in and what do you know, he found Paul rummaging through the cupboards in the kitchen. The counter was slowly filling with goods that Paul dug out. Rice, pasta, canned goods, jars of sauce and jams.

"Seriously, thank god the hermits. We hit the jackpot."

Paul was grinning from ear to ear, looking so fucking happy that it made Daryl happy. Deciding to leave Paul to his rummaging, he made his way to the tiny bedroom that had a double bed and a dresser. He begun with the dresser, there were sheets and towels but they were in such an awful condition that he simply shut the first drawer. The second held clothes that were in similar condition, again he simply shut it back up. Third and final had tools which he put on top of the dresser, more canned goods, rope, notebooks, pens and at the very bottom, fucking candy.

Daryl was stunned, he examined the expired Twinkie, wondering if it was edible. There was also a bag of Skittles, three Reece's pieces and more Twinkies. He thought back to a saying of something that Twinkies and cockroaches were the only things that would survive the apocalypse. Gathering only the candies in his arms, he went back to the kitchen to find Paul rummaging the drawers now with his back to him.

"Paul.."

"This place is fucking magical, there's all these cool knives and the amount of food that still is good. We couldn't have lucked out better."

"Heh, I think we did."

There was a chuckle at Daryl's voice that made Paul turn around instantly. Paul's eyes grew impossibly wide, cutlery in his hands dropping to the floor with a loud clanking noise. Daryl watched as Paul took a tentative step forward, like it would all just disappear with quick movements. His smile only grew.

"Are those?"

Paul's voice drifted off in awe. Daryl knew Paul's soft spot was Twinkies and he was holding four of them. He nodded as an answer and the other man scurried over to grab a Twinkie. Paul examined it as well with a thoughtful look, masking his real excitement.

"Maybe we should save them, you know.. for the kids"

"Ya can have one, won't tell no one 'bout it."

This was priceless. The huge heart his scout had only made Daryl fall more in love with him.

"Only if you have a Reese's with me. Brothers in crime, right?"

His own weakness was chocolate. Daryl laid the precious cargo on the kitchen table carefully but he did take one Reese's and put it in his jeans' back pocket. Paul was still looking at him with wide eyes causing him to chuckle again. Like a kid in a candy store.

"Think we should have dinner first?"

He asked, voice filled with amusement. What he wouldn't give to capture this moment, if only technology wasn't dead as well. Paul clearly contemplated this hard and long, as if it was the hardest decision he ever had to make. Sure enough Paul agreed with him and laid the precious Twinkie on the kitchen counter, eyes roaming the display of foods on it.

They decided to make chili con carne out of rice, canned beans and the possum Daryl had caught on one of their bathroom breaks during the road. It was rather good but more importantly it was fulfilling and nutritional. Dessert was well awaited course and Daryl indulged in the one piece of Reese's he allowed himself, the other would have to wait a bit longer. Paul was moaning obscenely as he savoured the sweet cream filled pastry. It gave Daryl some very filthy thoughts.

Dirty dishes in the sink, house secured, bed stripped off the dirty sheets and replaced with a sleeping bag fit for two spread on top. Daryl wasn't a romantic person nor did he really care for it either. But he had to admit, the atmosphere was pretty damn romantic. Candles were lit on top of the dresser, thanks to the hermit, curtains shut and Paul laying on the bed. Reading a book and dressed only in his jeans. All of this had been set up by the man on the bed as Daryl had secured the house. Keeping people safe was just something he did. He was almost reluctant to break the peace of the room but he had something on his mind that simply couldn't wait any longer.

Daryl resolved the strings from around his pant legs, unlaced his boots and kicked them off next to the open door. Walking closer to the bed around his designated side of it, he let his vest fall on the floor before removing his shirt. He was watching Paul the entire time who was pretending to be reading the book and not staring at the strip show, failing miserably. Keeping up with the nonchalance Daryl popped the belt buckle open, button following and slowly dragging the zipper open. This finally got Paul to drop his charade and the book was discarded on the floor where his clothes were as well.

"Take off yer pants",

Daryl's husky voice broke the peace, keeping his own jeans still on for he had a plan that he was going to see through. No matter how nervous he was. Paul hastily opened the jeans and kicked them away with enthusiasm which made his nervousness dissipate slightly. He beckoned the other man closer to him and straddled Paul as soon as he was near enough. Paul was in an upright position making the height difference bearable as he leaned down to place a swift kiss on those delicious pink lips.

Clearly it was enough to convey of his plan as he felt the stirring underneath him and those tropical ocean eyes were darkening by the second. Not showing his satisfaction, Daryl dug into his pocket and withdrew the Reese's waiting for him there.

"Keep yer hands to yerself and don't move."

He instructed his scout who raised his eyebrows in question. Completely ignoring this Daryl placed the now melted chocolate, thanks to heat it had been trapped in, on top of Paul's lips. On bare instinct Paul licked his lips making Daryl growl a bit, not in warning but the sight threw gasoline to the flames brewing inside him. He shook his head and repeated plastering the chocolate on Paul's lips but this time he did not lick them. Daryl nodded a bit in appreciation. He dragged the melting chocolate on Paul's left collar bone near his neck and both nipples before began licking it off.

By the time he was done with licking the right nipple Paul was moaning out loud. Daryl got off Paul and sat down on his side, placing the chocolate between his teeth whilst he dragged down the boxers off his scout. Rather than assuming his previous position, Daryl lifted Paul's left leg to place the heel on top of the bed and sat down between his legs. Watching Paul from the corner of his eye as he swept the chocolate on the erect cock in front of him. The scout was breathing heavily now as he knew of what was coming. Being a total dick, Daryl bit off half of the remaining Reese's and savoured it with same pace as Paul had his Twinkie.

A frustrated whimper escaped Paul causing Daryl to smirk triumphantly. Scooting further away from the temptation in front of him for a better leverage, Daryl finally gave in. With his tongue flat, he licked slowly the undershaft of Paul's chocolate covered cock. The moaning returned and they locked eyes as Daryl once again licked Paul's cock. Flashing a lopsided grin to the other man before plunging the entire cock in his mouth. The taste of pre-come and chocolate filled his taste buds making him moan around Paul's length. Bobbing his mouth up and down with a languid pace, swallowing down each time he got to the base.

Losing himself on the task, Daryl momentarily became aware of the now completely melted mess in his fingers. Deciding to make most of it, his chocolate covered fingers teased around Paul' hole. Releasing the length with an audible pop and wrapping his free hand around it as he plunged two of his fingers inside Paul. A gasp left the other man, his cock twitching in Daryl's hand. Daryl withdrew his fingers and licked off the chocolate from the pucker, forcing his fingers into Paul's mouth who moaned around them. Daryl pushed his tongue inside Paul to taste a faint chocolatey taste there as well.

"Aw fuck, Daryl, you're so dirty."

Paul spoke, his voice hoarse and broken. He knew they were both enjoying it equally as much. His own straining cock was begging for to be noticed and he could no longer prolong it. Daryl sat down next to Paul and stripped his jeans and boxers with one tug, in the process revealing a bottle of lube from his pocket. Pouring out lube to his hand, he covered his own cock with it and slowly stroked it. Daryl's eyes sought out Paul's lust filled ones and that was all his scout needed. Paul straddled his thighs before lowering himself down on his rock hard cock.

Wet heat enveloped his cock causing both men to moan at the feel. Taking his scout's hands, he placed them on his shoulders and slid down his own hands to grip Paul's hips. Both knew this would not be slow love-making, they were far too gone for that. Paul lifted his hips, almost coming off his cock before slamming down hard. A broken moan left his lips and the grip tightened on Paul's hips which apparently the other man took as encouragement to repeat his action.

Moving faster, harder up and down his cock was edging him closer. The moans falling from Paul's agape mouth were music to his ears. Caressing his side as Daryl lifted his hand to rest at the nape of his scout's neck. Moving his hand to share a passionate kiss. Their tongues danced together erotically as Paul's hips swiveled up and down. Paul's hands were gripping his shoulders tighter as they raced together to the end.

Parting their heated kiss Daryl thrust his hips hard up as Paul came down on his cock, breaking his scout's momentum. Again gripping hard his hips, Daryl began fucking that pulsating heat furiously. He was making sure to hit Paul's sweet spot with each harsh upstroke of his cock. Lifting his eyes from watching himself disappear inside the other man, Daryl saw the state of which he was leaving his scout. Eyes closed, head thrown back, mouth gasping for air as each hard hit against his sweet spot caused his moaning abrupt. He could feel that Paul was close, he was on the verge of bliss himself. With a well placed deep thrust, he felt Paul's hot come on his stomach.

Withdrawing out the other man's pleasure, Daryl kept thrusting deep and hard. Paul's eyes were closed shut and his mouth wide gaping wide. It was enough to cause his own climax. His cock twitched inside that heat and Daryl poured himself there. It was an intense orgasm, his hips were jerking erratically as he milked every last drop of his seed. Releasing his hold on his scout, they slowly parted. Paul collapsed next to him on the bed, still gasping for air.

"That.. that was a very, imaginative way to enjoy Reese's pieces."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this got out of hand a bit more than intended. I do not recommend sharing treats Daryl-style XD Let me know your thoughts! Oh, and I have thank each and every one of you who leave comments and kudos, I do this for you guys! All of you.


	5. Emptiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after and first day scavenging.

Last night had been incredible for which Jesus was grateful at the moment as he laid in bed, completely exhausted. Daryl next to him, snoring slightly already even though they had literally gotten to bed seconds ago. Still wearing his clothes, boots and all. Worn out, a boneless heap, muscles aching. Not only did he have to remove his own boots but now Daryl's as well. Normally Jesus wouldn't care much about such but he could feel the weariness of the day weighing down on him. Him and Daryl had been up and about since sunrise.

After cleaning up the mess Daryl had created, a shared shower since the water miraculously worked in the house, they had gone straight to bed. Him all cuddled up to Daryl's side, legs tangled together and soft caressing hands lulling both of them to an early night's sleep. A deep, peaceful sleep with no outside noises waking them up. His hunter of course had been the first to wake up, given his internal clock was not as tuned to this new world as his hunter's was. Jesus was never really a morning person per say in the old world but as that world perished and new routines were formed, he had tried hard into developing to a morning person.

Although waking up with Daryl had its upsides, Jesus knew that this morning would not be one of those. They were on a mission. A mission that would not wait for them to be done with some precious naked time. Breakfast was also not indulged in the quiet house but in the car out on the road on their way to the town. The nameless town, it would be one time visit therefore the name didn't even matter, that was only fifteen minutes away.

It had been a ghost town, all it needed was eerie mist and boom, you had a horror movie. Not that every day life wasn't a horror movie in it's own. But a classical horror movie that Jesus had once enjoyed as a teen. He had even made a joke about it but of course Daryl didn't find it funny. He had his game face on, ears trained to every small sound, eyes sweeping over the place for possible threats. It wasn't out of the ordinary for their joined runs to go like this. Jesus trying to uplift the spirit whilst Daryl was serious like a heart attack. Which had been a huge struggle of adjustment for Daryl at first, actually Jesus was sure that it still was a bit.

But their first ever run together had gone utterly horrible. It wasn't even the fact that the actual run had been very successful, a fucking gold mine really compared to some of the others. It had been an abandoned warehouse with pallets filled with canned food, rows after rows. Most of them had been untouched. The thing was that Jesus had been nervous around Daryl at the time, given his huge crush on the silent archer, and when he was nervous he babbled. About everything and nothing, stupid jokes and improper innuendos. Just thinking about all of the fucking ridiculous things he had spewed made Jesus cringe. Daryl obviously loved bringing that up.

They had begun methodically looting the town starting with the outback part that held single storey houses. Most of the houses were completely empty already, their residents had more than likely taken every useful thing with them. The houses that weren't empty held their former residents either in walker form or decaying bodies. Seven houses later and none the richer, they decided to give up and move closer to the center of the town where the stores were.

Deciding to start with the most essential, the pharmacy, thinking that their luck had to be better there but had only held three walkers inside and nothing useful. Not even an aspiring bottle. It looked like someone had swept all of the shelves, collecting everything. Not even the back room had anything. Clean except the dust bunnies floating around. Next to the pharmacy was a convenience store that had about a dozen walkers inside but their combined skills had proven why they worked together so well and were often by each others side.

At least the convenience store wasn't totally empty. It wasn't much but it was definitely more than nothing. A handful of tools, batteries, rope, even a first-aid kit among other. All useful things that would come handy in the long run. A small bakery was next but again they had come empty-handed. The mood had turned sour around this point. Daryl had been irritated but the walkers provided him a way to let out the frustration.

Three more stores later the day turned from a bearable warmth to a sweating heat. For some reason more walkers had decided to turn up as well. They had dispatched about twenty already with a relevant ease but luck had long since forsaken them. Whether you counted it as luck or not, but the half empty back bags they were both carrying didn't slow them down. Daryl was killing each walker with a bit more force and anger laced his features. Jesus tried to concentrate on the task at hand but would out of the corner of his eyes glance at Daryl, just to make sure he was okay.

But then their luck had completely ran out, from around the corner it seemed that the entire town's people in walker form had come to greet them. More than fifty of them slowly closing in on them and that was when Jesus had began to panic. Daryl oddly seemed unphased. It did nothing to calm him down. Dead bodies were littered around them as they tried to make their way to the car before they were surrounded. The car was parked on the road that led away from the town which was only a mile away from their current location.

Neither of them were using guns as they didn't want to attract more walkers to their path, knives slicing and stabbing the walkers around them. Jesus was practically running next to Daryl, side by side each taking care of their own but joint effort to keep them both alive. Once they had reached the car, Daryl drove with his foot heavy on the gas pedal. Both of them gasping to catch their breaths as adrenalin still flowed.

There had been one point when Jesus had been literally frightened that he would die. They had been halfway to the truck, walkers chasing them as they ran. Out of the corner of his eye Jesus had seen five walkers come at him from the side street. He had come way too close to two of those, one of the walkers teeth even grazed his blue vest covered shoulder. It had only gotten padding and not him, not even broken the skin. Thankfully Daryl had missed the scene for Jesus was confident that it would have driven his hunter batshit crazy.

The house had still been untouched when they had gotten back. No walkers in the woods near them, no humans had tried to break in the house and steal their shit. Supper had been a simple beef stew straight from the can without heating or anything, eaten in silence. An uncomfortable silence as Daryl radiated anger and frustration. It had been a sucky day for sure, but Jesus' spirits were not as down as his hunter's were.

Jesus was thankful that neither of them had had any accidents, no wounds or scratches. Daryl was fine, physically at least. They were safe in the house and they were alone. As Daryl stood up, locked the door and simply walked away to the bedroom, Jesus knew that his hunter did not share these positive feelings.

Sleep was heavy on his eyes as he kept listening to the soft snoring next to him. Sighing to himself, Jesus groggily sat up and slowly removed his boots first followed by Daryl's. There was no point in trying to wake up his hunter from his well needed sleep which was why they were both going to sleep in the clothes they had worn that day. Despite the dried walker blood, sweat and dirt that covered them both, Jesus still snuggled up next to Daryl. Leaving no space between them. He laid his head on top of his hunter's heart and let the steady beating lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys for taking this long to post another chapter but life happened. It's been a real rough week or so, and I'm trying to get it together enough to write. Yeah, no one cares what's going on in my private life so here! I will try my very best to post the next chapter this week. Even though this is more of a filler, I ensure you that it is needed for where the story goes next. Yes, the next chapter will be worth the wait. ;) Hope you enjoy!


	6. Frustrations grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their luck has not changed and the air is tense.

He was used to this side of his hunter flaring up every once in a while and he totally understood it. Jesus himself was a little pissed off, at first. The fucking pacing was driving him closer and closer to snapping. Sure it had been another useless scavenging trip to the town, the walkers that had gathered there had not yet dispersed. They had basically driven around in circles trying to find a spot in but their luck had not improved from yesterday. What made it worse was that Daryl's hunt had been unsuccessful as well this afternoon and the rest he had spent pacing and grunting around the house.

"Will you fucking stop with the pacing Daryl."

He gritted from between clenched teeth in avoidance to not completely lose it. Daryl's pacing halted and his head snapped up to have those icy blue eyes trained on Jesus' face. There was so much anger swirling in there and now it was pointed at him. It wasn't his fault that this trip had taken a turn and slid downhill from there. And that was the final straw, what made Jesus snap was that misplaced hatred towards him. From the one person he truly loved from all of his heart.

"Don't even try to fucking blame me for this!"

Jesus was curling his hands into fists underneath the table he was sitting at, trying to keep some of his control since he had just yelled at Daryl. Oh, but that had been a bad move. Daryl fully turned his body to face him, the coldness from his eyes filling the warm evening air with frost. They haven't fought before, as in full-blown out yelling and throwing shit, but this was turning into one. Jesus could feel it, the hostility radiating off from Daryl.

"Don't fuckin' yell at me! 's not mah fault this fuckin' trip 's a clusterfuck!"

Daryl screamed back, and if had they been back at Alexandria the neighbours would have been knocking on their door right about now, but since they weren't Jesus stood up. His stance was threatening, his fists landing a hard blow on top of the table, items on top of it rattling loudly. It was quiet before the impending storm, the air crackling with electricity and all hell was about break loose. You could almost taste it. Jesus licked his lips before really raising his voice and voicing his opinions.

"You've been like this all fucking day! Looking at me like it's somehow my fault. That the town got overrun by walkers. That your fucking hunt was for nothing. Fuck Daryl, you barely spoke to me yesterday after we almost died!"

"It wasn't that bad."

Daryl snorted in amusement. Bad fucking move because now Jesus really lost his shit.

"Oh yeah, is that why a walker almost fucking bit my shoulder off? Huh?"

Daryl's eyes shifted, like he just realized that he hadn't even made sure that Jesus was okay. Jesus licked his lips again and nodded, eyes cold.

"Yeah, I thought you'd notice the fucking hole in my shirt once we got back but no, you just ate and went to sleep."

"Ya seemed fine."

Daryl's level of tone changed and dropped, but his eyes were still covered with ice. Jesus didn't even acknowledge him speaking and continued his ranting.

"Oh, and I checked on you after you fell asleep, to fucking make sure you were okay! Fucking took off your boots and everything. And how have you fucking paid back? By ignoring my presence all fucking day!"

It was true. Daryl had been distant since they woke up especially in the nameless town, Jesus suspected that it was why Daryl had straight away disappeared to the woods once they were back. To keep avoiding him. This thought just occurred to him now and it made Jesus even more pissed off.

"You know what? Fuck you Daryl."

He spat out and turned around to stomp to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Going as far as locking the door before he punched the fucking mirror. It shattered to million little pieces, some digging into his knuckles but it wasn't enough. He threw everything off the counter to the wall, some shattering against it. He was shaking with fury and as he gripped the sink Jesus noticed his hands were shaking as well. His knuckles were turning white from his tight grip, blood slowly dripping down from the small cuts on his hands where the shards were still digging in. Jesus had never been this angry in his life. The adrenalin running in his veins was clouding his better judgement.

A timid knock snapped his head toward the door, eyes burning a hole in it. Jesus ripped the door open to find Daryl standing awkwardly on the other side with his hand up, like he had been planning to knock again. There was a fleeting moment when the air shifted, giving leeway for them to stop but then Daryl spoke, breaking the moment.

"Ya done havin' yer temper tantrum?"

Oh, hell no. He did not just compare Jesus to a child who didn't get his way. Jesus grasped Daryl by the neck and shoved him against the wall behind him, blood oozing out from the small cuts. Daryl's face twisted with shock, eyes shining with actual fear. Fear that things would really get out of hand and turn into a full-blown fist fight. Somewhere deep in his subconscious Jesus knew why Daryl showed real fear, after all Jesus knew of his past. His free hand came to hold Daryl by the shoulder to keep him pinned against the wall. Jesus' eyes were dark, face stern and voice level laced with authority.

"You better shut the fuck up Daryl."

He growled lowly and pressed his body closer, vibrations rippling through his body to his hunters. And that was when Jesus felt it. Why Daryl was behaving so submissively, not fighting back. Jesus looked deep into his hunters blue eyes, the ice was gone and a dark lust in its place. Daryl's tongue peeked out to sweep across his lower lip and swallowed hard. Jesus knew what Daryl was trying to do, trying to distract him with those tempting pink lips glistening. The adrenalin was still rushing in his veins and Daryl was only throwing gasoline to the flames.

Jesus could feel Daryl's pulse beating wildly underneath his palm. His breathing coming out in short gasps, pink lips parted, eyes glazed with lust, erection digging into Jesus' hip. Instead of freeing his hold on his hunter, Jesus stepped back to give them enough space for his next command to be followed through.

"Strip."

Jesus freed his hold on Daryl's shoulder so he could shuck it off once he had unbuttoned the vest and shirt, revealing that delicious sun-kissed skin. Jeans and boxers following, pooling to his ankles since there was string tied around the pants legs, boots left on as well. He swiftly spun Daryl around to face the wall and pinned him there with a stern hold between his hunter's shoulder blades, crushing his hard on against the wall and himself.

"Don't move."

The words were spat out from between grunts as Jesus rid himself from his shirt and jeans, kicking them to the side and finally toed off his socks. He would need the friction skin on hardwood floor provided. His own cock was rock hard as well and he gave a few pulls before Jesus gripped Daryl by the throat again, twisting his head to the side. With his other hand Jesus stuck his index and middle finger into Daryl's gasping mouth. Luckily only his knuckles had blood on them and not his fingers. He didn't even need to tell his hunter what to do, Daryl latched onto his fingers, sucking them hard. A loud wet pop was audible as Jesus withdrew his fingers, a string of saliva dripping from his open mouth.

Jesus wasted no time, he shoved those two slick fingers between his hunter's perk ass, finding his hole awaiting to be touched. Daryl's entire form was shaking with anticipation, mouth still agape. They held eye contact as he pushed into the tight heat, muscles there contracting causing him to moan with his hunter. Completely missing the one spot Jesus knew Daryl wanted to be touched instead he pushed in and out a couple of times before withdrawing them. Jesus spat to his hand and coated his cock with it mixing in the leaking pre-come. It would have to do, it would hurt but Jesus beyond point of really caring anymore.

He pressed the tip of his cock to Daryl's hole, a moan slipping from his mouth at the feel. Jesus growled as he thrust inside of Daryl in one hard move, balls deep, pelvis to ass. Daryl smacked against the wall with his thrust, a painful grunt escaping from his open mouth. Jesus lifted his eyes from where they were connected to meet Daryl's blue eyes. The pressure on Daryl's neck was firm and he could feel the gulp, the rushing of the blood underneath his skin. A hard jerk of his hips made his hunter's eyes darker, they spoke to him on a nonverbal level. Giving his full content.

And Jesus revelled in it. Jarring his hips to the hilt, drawing out almost completely and repeating his movements over and over. Sweat broke on both on their skins, making that sun-kissed skin of his hunter glow and Jesus could no longer resist. He leaned his upper body to be skin to skin with his hunters, completely flushed from the waist up. Releasing his hold on Daryl's throat, the deep breath his hunter took broke his rough fucking. Daryl's hands came from steadying himself on the wall to grasp Jesus by the waist, holding tight.

"Don't stop."

Was the breathy moan Daryl let from his still gasping mouth, a quick lopsided smirk falling in place for a second. They both needed this. To blow off steam. Let out frustrations. Leaning in to give those pink glistening lips a tender kiss, Jesus felt inner peace come over them. They had barely touched each other in the last day and a half. The kiss grew deeper, more passionate and when Daryl shoved his tongue to Jesus' mouth, he snapped back and snapped his hips hard against Daryl's backside, breaking the kiss. It was that deep thrust inside to that quivering heat that brought Jesus teetering on the edge of oblivion. The way Daryl was moaning and withering Jesus knew he was right there alongside him.

Angling his hips to reach that sweet spot inside with each jarring thrust causing his hunter moaning louder and louder. His hands gripped Daryl's hips hard, the pain in his knuckles barely registering at all, and pressed his lips to smother the shout that was bursting out as Jesus his hit peak. Hips moving erratically, his hunters insides clenching him harder, milking him for all he was worth. Daryl moaned to the kiss and Jesus drank in the noises with fervor. Stilling his hips, still flushed from feet to shoulders, the kiss morphed gentler. Until they both felt breathing was becoming an all-consuming need, they broke apart. Jesus opened his eyes to see his hunter's own open slowly, like when he wakes up in the morning. Hazy, a bit glazed but filled with such happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look at that I kept to my word. And on a Friday, or should I say Fri-yay? Hopefully you'll be saying yay at the end of this chapter as things are good again. Feel free to give feedback, suggestions or just say hi if you like this story. I appreciate each one of you reading this. Thank you!


	7. Gunshots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a turn.

There was a soft tingling on his nose that woke him up. Daryl was sure it wasn't his hair as the tingling kept moving across his cheek now. He was still half asleep and could have fallen back to a deep sleep if the tingling sensations would stop. Cracking open an eye Daryl saw Paul's smiling face obscuring his entire range of vision. His green blue tropical eyes were clear and filled with love, towards him and it made Daryl's heart flutter in his chest.

  
"Morning sleepy head."

  
Paul's voice was like silk and honey in his ears. Daryl secretly loved waking up after Paul since he would always come up with different ways to wake him up. Today it was dragging that soft long sandy blonde hair across his face, though his personal favourite was light kisses pressed upon his face. It was quite rare for him to wake up later than everyone else which made Daryl treasure these kinds of mornings a bit more. Though there was a good reason to his late hour of awakening. Last night after the hallway rumble they had moved to the shower in the attempts to actually clean up. Needless to say it turned from soaping each other up to wandering hands and another round.

  
Daryl had tended to the small cuts on Paul's knuckles after they had finally had a shower. He had felt bad about each cut, it had sort of been his fault after all, and given each one a tender touch of the lips. Not brave enough to press a full on kiss in case it would cause any pain. Then they had cleaned up the bathroom mess together, eaten supper and gone to bed. Where he had laid on his side with open arms, inviting Paul to be the little spoon. It was his way of apologizing about the fight without words.

  
And apparently it had worked if Paul's glimmering morning persona was any evidence. Despite the mission they were on or the happiness in his scout's features, Daryl closed his eye and wanted to drift back to sleep for five more minutes. Paul took this as a sign to start pressing his soft lips in small kisses across his face. Starting with his forehead, Daryl felt Paul's hand carefully caressing his hair out of his face, followed by his closed eyelids, the tip of his nose, tracking kisses down his cheek to his chin. The hand kept caressing his hair, and if he had been a cat Daryl would have been purring out of pleasure at this point, as lips touched his in a lingering kiss. All too soon the kiss was over and a sigh of displeasure involuntary escaped him.

  
"What time is it?"

  
His voice was still hoarse from weariness. A soft chuckle made him open both of his eyes to see a twinkle in the scout's tropical ocean orbs.

  
"The sun's been up for about half an hour so we got a little time."

  
The caressing in his hair never stopped and he watched with hazy eyes the descend of his scout's plump pink lips. It was another lingering, soul touching kiss, lifting him up to the heavens. It was these fleeting moments when Daryl thought the nickname Jesus was appropriate. The other fleeting moments like the one last night, Daryl didn't think was very Jesus like behavior. It was heaven and sin wrapped in one person. His person.

  
A moist tongue swept across his lips in a tantalizing way causing chills running up his spine. His own tongue joined in an erotic dance. Hands began their roaming on naked skin, Daryl was thankful they had decided to not get dressed after their shower but instead spent the rest of the night wrapped in towels. Moans were filling the air, pants of begging 'more' and 'please' as things were kicking up a notch. Skin glistening in sweat, hums of pleasure running through them. Skin gliding on skin, gentle thrusts hitting that sweet spot in him with each new angling of Paul's hips. Climbing slowly toward joined peak of oblivion. Mornings like these were among Daryl's favourites.

 

* * *

  
Walkers had finally dispersed enough for them to continue the scavenging. The gas station had a first aid kit, hidden stash of a full bottle of quality whiskey in the back office space, handful of bags of Lay's, for some reason barbecue sauce and chocolate chip cookies. It was shaping up into being a good day as with each place they scavenged they found more and more of needful supplies. With three full back bags of each of them carrying Daryl was feeling great and if his hands were not full, he even might have held Paul's hand. They were carrying the bags back to the car in the quiet afternoon. It was a bit strange that only yesterday the town had been covered in walkers yet today they had come across maybe about a dozen of them. Maybe their luck had turned around.

  
Paul was stuffing the bags to the bed of the truck as he kept watch over the road and forest. Daryl was idly playing with the knife in his hand when five walkers emerged from behind the trees where they had been hidden from his eyes. He gave a whistle to alert his scout of their presence. Daryl moved with purpose towards the straggling walkers with a raised knife poised in his right hand. Since they were pretty decayed and not in tandem, Daryl disposed the walkers swiftly. Three more came from his left side. His knife was already dripping with dark blood but the adrenalin of it all was pushing him forward.

  
"Daryl!"

  
Paul's frantic voice made his head snap towards the man behind him. Then everything was a blur. Gunshots breaking the air repeatedly, rapidly. Daryl fell on the concrete road hard. It took him more effort than he thought to just sit up. And then he saw it, didn't feel it at first, not until he saw it. It was unmistakable. The truth of it hit like a thousand bricks. Crimson marred his skin, seeping out faster than he thought. It was weird seeing it mix with the dark clotted walker blood on his shirt, swirling together like they belonged. It felt warm as it slid from the wound down his torso to his left side to the ground. Painting it red as well. His fingers were shaking he noticed as he touched the gaping open wound. Just to make sure it wasn't a nightmare. The pain was real. This was real.

  
His hands were painted red with his own blood as Paul's hands took in place of his. His scout had a panicked expression for a split second before he took action. Helping him up on to his feet and into the car. Daryl wasn't putting enough pressure on the gunshot wound on his abdomen to stop the bleeding. A deep sadness was setting in his bones. Paul was glancing at his way every once in awhile but mostly looking at the road. Daryl felt a twinge of pain every time those ocean orbs looked at him. They were filled with remorse and he wanted nothing more than to offer some peace of mind to his scout. Clearing out his throat Daryl spoke with a rough but quiet voice.

  
"'s okay. 's not yer fault, Paul."

  
"I shot you Daryl! Of course it's my fault!"

  
It dawned on him that Paul didn't still know what Daryl knew. The second he had stood up Daryl had known. It broke his heart even more that Daryl had to break Paul's heart as well, but not just yet. Daryl reached with his left hand to take Paul's hand into his from the stick. Since both of their hands were covered in his blood, Daryl found it a bit harder to stroke his thumb across the skin. He took a moment to collect his thoughts from the pain running through him. Mulling over the right words to speak out loud. How to breach the content. What to say in general. Deciding to start from the beginning he spoke again.

  
"Ya know that when I was little, my grandma used ta tell me 'bout soul mates. How ya knew when ya met yers but never believed her. 'cause all my life had been nothing but shit, I had been nothing but shit and then the world ended. People died more and more. Never thought of soul mates for a long ass time but then ya stole our truck."

  
A dark chuckle left him and his eyes started watering but Daryl knew he had to say all this now. Paul kept his eyes on the road but was squeezing his hand to let Daryl know that he was listening.

  
"Took me a while to realize why I felt like drowning when ya where near me. 's funny that I never really believed in God or nothing, but still I fell for a guy who calls himself Jesus."

  
Tears were falling freely from his eyes but Daryl simply blinked them away. He turned his gaze to look at the man next to him. Daryl wished he could tell all that was in his heart.

  
"But I did. Man, did I fall, fast n' hard if ya didn't already know. 'n I'd remember what my grandma used to say. Yer mah soul mate Paul and I love ya, so fuckin' much."

  
Paul turned his head to look into his eyes. There was a confused look in his green blue eyes but then he also voiced that confusion.

  
"Daryl, I love you too but you're not going to die. Doctor Carson will patch you up just like when Dwight shot you. You're going to be okay. And when you're all healed up, you can shoot me and we'll call it even."

  
His voice shook a little, like Paul didn't quite believe his own words but the light laugh he tried to force out at the end made it seem like Paul was trying not to _not_ believe. This only made the next words Daryl spoke more painful to spit out.

  
"A walker got me, bit me in the leg."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been dreading on writing this chapter and I'm sure you understand why. There is one more chapter ahead and then the epilogue. Let me know your thoughts! Thank you for reading :)


	8. Soul mates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath.

"What?!"

  
Jesus' outburst was so loud it shook the entire car. Daryl was softly stroking his thumb back and forth on his hand, tears falling freely. It had to be a joke. Not a very funny joke but it had to be. It couldn't be real. This was not happening. Daryl was not dying. No, he was injured. The blood loss was causing him to feel like he was dying. Doctor Carson would be able to patch his hunter up again and it would all be back to normal. Yes, Daryl was not dying. After rationalizing the situation to himself Jesus squeezed Daryl's hand in reassurance.

  
"You're just delusional from the blood loss, you only have a gunshot wound that will be stitched up. You're gonna be just fine Daryl. Don't even think otherwise."

  
Yes, this was all there was to it. With a new determination Jesus kept driving like a bat out of hell. Time was the essence and they were halfway to Hilltop already. Jesus thanked his lucky stars that the road was empty.

  
Daryl sniffed next to him, the hand holding his began to tremble. A tiny voice spoke so quietly that it didn't fit the man it came out of. So quiet that it was almost soft murmurs, inaudible sounds not words. Now this was worrisome so Jesus squeezed his hunter's hand once more. Obviously Daryl took this as another sign to keep going but this time his ears heard even the deep sadness in his hunter's voice.

  
"Paul, please slow down, I don't want ya ta die too."

  
Another sniffle followed. Jesus slowed down simply because he did not want to risk both of their lives any further and now he could chance a longer glance to the trembling man next to him. Daryl's face was paler than it had been minutes ago, he wasn't bleeding that much for him to be this ghostly. Tears were still slowly flowing out of those gorgeous blue eyes.

  
"No."

  
Jesus' own voice was beginning to quiver. The reality hit him like a thousand bricks. His breathing stopped, heartbeat halted and everything came crashing down. His foot came off the gas pedal and slowly the truck came to a stop. Everything seemed to stop, time became nothing. Jesus' heart ached painstakingly, blood rushed behind his ears and his eyesight turned watery. Cold fingers brushed his tears away.

  
"Don't cry. Yer gonna be okay. 's not the end of the world."

  
Even though he knew that his hunter was only offering words of comfort, they did absolutely nothing. Maybe worsened the situation a bit more. Jesus turned his head to look into the sad blue eyes watching him.

  
"You are my world Daryl Dixon and I can't do this without you. Not anymore."

  
He could see perspiration on Daryl's forehead, the blueness colouring those once pink lips. He did the only thing he could, Jesus kissed those lips softly. New tears were forming behind his closed eyelids. It was truly a heartbreaking moment. For both of them, Jesus was sure of that. Placing his forehead on Daryl's, he opened his eyes again and took a deep breath of his hunter's scent in his lungs, ignoring the rusty blood smell.

  
For a moment they were both locked in the quietness, eyes gazing each other. Vibrant blue eyes were losing that sparkle Jesus so loved. They were holding hands still and Jesus' other hand was clutching the back of his hunters neck. The fever was already running through Daryl, he could feel the cold sweats on his forehead and the back of Daryl's neck was hot. Jesus didn't want to dwell on the past or think of the future, he wanted to stay in this moment forever. But Daryl didn't have forever.

  
He scooched the hunter partially in his lap, rested Daryl's head on top of his heart. Where he belonged. What he owned. Jesus begun to stroke the sweat slicked hair out of pure habit and necessity. Daryl was still trembling but had run out of tears by this point. Minutes or hours passed them. The sun stayed in the same place in the sky, shining brightly.

  
"Yer my world too. I don't want to leave you, Paul."

  
Jesus had not stopped crying, tears were rolling down in a constant faint stream. Daryl's voice was so tiny and afraid, it broke his spirit. He didn't know how to comfort the man he loved. How to offer peace in his dying hours. All Jesus could do was proclaim his undying love, over and over. The only words that made sense to him anymore. Daryl spoke them back each time, each time in a bit quieter voice. Like speaking was taking all of his energy. Maybe it was, Jesus tried not think about it.

  
"I don't wanna come back as one of them."

  
"I promise."

  
They both knew what was upon them. They didn't need to discuss it more. No one wanted to become a walker. Jesus didn't know if he could put down Daryl in walker form. Just let himself to be turned as well. To roam the world together endlessly.

  
"Paul, kiss me."

  
Daryl lifted his head from its place in his heart to have his final wish fulfilled. Jesus kissed his forehead, closed eyelids, cheeks down to that scruff on his chin and finally lips. His morning routine of waking up Daryl was now his final farewell. Allowing him to go to a peaceful sleep. Jesus placed his cheek on top of his hunter's head and listened as Daryl took his last breath.

  
He begun to choke on his own sobs that wrecked his entire being. Shaking his very core and the now fading body clutched tightly in his arms. Moving his left hand to grab a knife from its holster on his thigh, Jesus raised only his hand to place the sharp tip on Daryl's temple.

  
"I love you Daryl Dixon. Until we meet again."

  
A sickening crunch of bone and brain matter broke the air and the limp body in his arms was turning cold now, yet Jesus couldn't let go. The knife dropped from his hand and clattered somewhere on the floor. He held onto Daryl's lifeless form like his own life depended on it. And right now it might have been the only thing tethering him to this world. His own world had died. He had ended it himself. The grief was overpowering all other emotions. A dark sorrow covering his cold bones, heart shattered and soul in pieces.

  
Tucking himself back behind the wheel but keeping his hunter still in his arms, Jesus begun the long journey to Alexandria. It's where Daryl would want to be buried. Where his family was. He was in no hurry and the truck moved forward in a leisurely pace. It didn't matter how long the journey would take, nothing felt like it mattered anymore.  
Jesus couldn't tell how he finally made it inside Alexandria's gates. How the family gathered around the car, helped him to carry Daryl to his final resting place. How they had buried him. How he had ended up back in their room. His and Daryl's room. How he was no longer bathed in his hunters blood. Time had slowed and rushed at the same time. Jesus couldn't tell you what time it was, if it was the same day anymore or even how he felt. He felt numb. No hunger, no thirst. The tears kept on streaming from his eyes, it was the only constant.

  
Jesus was lying on their bed, holding Daryl's pillow in his arms, crying into his own. The winged leather vest he had been gifted as a final parting gift from the family as they were sure it was what Daryl would have wanted. He was wearing it on top of one of his love's shirt. Jesus was only wearing Daryl's clothes, it was a way to feel like he was still here. Like he wasn't gone and Jesus was alone.

  
Not that anyone said anything. Jesus didn't leave their bedroom unless go to the bathroom. Food was brought to him but he couldn't stomach the idea of food. He knew it was not healthy but he couldn't cope without his other half. Days passed as a blur and Jesus didn't leave their bed. The smell of Daryl still lingered in the clothes he wore, the pillow he kept close to his chest. Tears had long dried but the feeling of crying hadn't passed.

  
Yet no one said anything about it to him. The family was grieving as well in their own way. Not that Jesus knew how deeply affected every single person his hunter had ever met was. How many people kept sending him food as a sign of their condolences. Days were turning into weeks and Jesus was slowly coming back to the realm of the living. Exiting the house, going back to Hilltop, on runs, dispatching walkers, on watch, anything to keep out of the house. What once had been a safe haven had turned into his personal hell.  
It didn't matter though as the sorrow never left him where ever he went, the deep sadness stayed in his broken heart. Food had lost its taste, colours seemed duller, life unworthy of living it alone. Jesus wasn't suicidal, he knew that Daryl would kick his ass when they would meet again in the afterlife. He had to keep living, not that what he was doing was living. Jesus was just going through the motions, working on autopilot. Always wearing that winged vest no matter what the weather was.

  
As fall came and leaves were dying and falling to the cooling ground, Jesus visited Daryl's grave for the first time. He had been avoiding it like the plague. He didn't speak about the man who had stolen his heart and never returned it. If someone said anything or asked anything about Daryl, Jesus ignored it. He wasn't ready to really face the facts but now it was time. Jesus sat next to the headstone in the form on a wooden plank with 'Daryl Dixon' carved on it. Flowers were placed on top of the grave, arrows and a stuffed teddy bear.

  
"Hey love, sorry I haven't visited sooner. I don't even have a good reason for it. Just been a coward you could say. It's been hard without you, Daryl. I can't lie to you, never could. I'm trying to live without you but it's not easy when your other half is gone. God, I miss you so much. I love you Daryl. So much it hurts."

  
His voice was quivering, tears filling his eyes. A small thud slammed into his chest. Lil' Asskicker sat in his lap and played with the teddy she carried around. Jesus held onto the small innocent child that Daryl had loved and cried his sorrows away. This child had been special to all of them, she was the future and Jesus could not let her down. Daryl had made sure that Lil' Asskicker was never without anything she needed. Teddy bears included. One of them Judith carried now with her everywhere and other sat on top of his grave. Life would go on but the memory of Daryl would live in the lives he had touched. Jesus had to honour the man he still loved with every being of his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, that happened. I'm sorry about this. I was actually crying whilst writing this chapter but this is a tragedy. But Daryl died in the arms of the man he loves more than life itself, Jesus. Next up is the epilogue and then this story is done. Thank you for reading. *passes tissues*


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus' thoughts.

It was just another day, people came and went on about their day normally. Spring had just come, birds were chirping in the rustling trees and critters everywhere were coming out of their winters nests. Landscape turning vivid green with new buds of wild flowers. The morning air was still nice and cool compared to the cold winter mornings. Jesus had been up on night watch but couldn't find sleep just yet. So he had watched the sunrise alone in his bedroom at Alexandria. For months he had run himself ragged to be able to sleep during the lonely nights. But now that spring had come he couldn't sleep well. Nights went and passed with Jesus wide awake laying in bed. He would nap during daytime when he could.

  
Jesus knew why sleep was evading him, the anniversary of Daryl's death was coming. It had been almost a year and the pain was still with him every day. Not as much as the first months but still there underneath the surface. Days were becoming easier to deal with when he had people whom he could rely on like the family. The family in Alexandria had taken Jesus under their wing and part of the family when the tragedy had hit. Jesus was beyond grateful for their support and love. He felt more at home than he ever had in Hilltop, even with the missing piece of his soul.

  
Nights were always hard for Jesus without Daryl but now that the scent of his hunter had faded from the sheets and clothes he still wore at times, it was unbearable. The gut wrenching loneliness was like a deafening silence. His bones felt old and weary, his heart was cold and missing. There was no comfort on earth to replace what Jesus had lost. Only in death would he be whole again.

  
Alexandria, Hilltop and Kingdom had made a deal after the war with Negan and more people were traveling from place to place in search of newcomers who had the option of where to stay at. No matter how many new people Jesus came across who implied their interest in him, he never paid any attention to them. No one caught his interest, not as friends either. He had the family and it was all he needed.

  
Jesus volunteered to babysit Judith as much as he could, spending every free minute he could spare with the child. He was there when she said her first words, took her first a tad shaky steps and visited Daryl's grave with her every week. Jesus wanted to make sure that the little girl would always remember uncle Daryl. He had started telling stories about how he met Daryl, how they danced around each other before realising their common feelings and everything he knew about the man in question as night-time lullabies. It gave Jesus a sense of false peace when he would spend time with Lil' Asskicker, a nickname that everyone still called her to keep the memory of Daryl alive and kicking. Reliving their past would cause sometimes immense pain and tears but he powered through them. It was therapeutic in a way.

  
Slowly he began to talk about his hunter with others as well. Sharing stories and memories. Jesus learned new things that he wished he could talk about with Daryl, ask him questions. Instead he asked the people who told these stories everything they knew of the topic. It didn't lift the sorrow he was blanketed in but it was nice to hear everyone talk so fondly of the man who was his everything.

  
They said that time would heal, that he would find love again and live once more like he had before. Jesus knew that it wasn't the case. Daryl had stolen his heart, was the other half of his soul, his world. No, it had been one time thing to find love like that. Jesus had made peace with that long time ago. And it wasn't that he wasn't living, but it was that it was hard to live alone. There was no undying love in his heart to give anymore because Daryl had taken his heart and ran with it. Time would heal, yes. The sorrow would eventually go away but Jesus knew that real peace came with the afterlife where Daryl was waiting for him. There he would be with his heart again.

  
So Jesus went on with each day doing what he would do may it be scouting or killing walkers, spend time with his family and think about Daryl. He would stay up the nights for he would sleep well again in the arms of his love, Daryl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand here we are, this is the last chapter. This story is wrapped. Finito. I'd like to thank every single one of you who have read this, left kudos or commented. Honestly could have not done it without your support!


End file.
